


Of Iron and Gold

by EbonyandYew



Category: The Hobbit - All Media Types
Genre: F/M, Gen, Timeline Inconsistancies, slightly AU
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2013-12-30
Updated: 2014-12-23
Packaged: 2018-01-06 17:12:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 4
Words: 9,585
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1109425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/EbonyandYew/pseuds/EbonyandYew
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Ulfheonar, honored, feared, battle-born, all began the same way. As children. Bridlyng Daindottir was no different. Placed under the care of Masters Dwalin and Balin, Brid and the young Heirs of Durin grew up as thick as thieves. That is, until she was called home. There, forces unseen begin their work, as the smallest pebble begins an avalanche, and Middle Earth will never be the same.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Begynnelse

“Brid! BRIDLYNG!” My brother yelled. 

I laughed and smiled at the sight of my younger brother, standing in the wooden stockade he had dubbed “The Arena”, swinging his sword about his head, charging at a dwarf, who could not have been much older than me, in full armor. 

The wooden toy connected with the plating of the dwarf’s armor and left the air resounding with a thwack. 

The dwarf staggered back as Danruhl danced in victory. 

“Bridlyng! I won! Did y’see?”

“Yes, Danruhl, I saw you beat the lumbering oaf, but let’s see if you can beat your big old sister.” I called to him, jumping over the barrier and landing with a soft thud on the dusty arena floor. 

“Briddie, you can’t beat me!” Danruhl taunted, stout little hands on his hips. 

I mimicked his stance.

“Oh really, dwarfling? And why is that?” 

“Because I’m better!” Danruhl fell into a fit of laughter. 

“Well now, now you are just asking for it.” I picked up a practice sword from the edge of the stockade and tried swinging it a few times. 

Balance wasn’t so bad for a wooden plaything. 

I stood square to my little brother and peered down at him. He smiled back at me and charged. 

Thwack! 

My blade blocked his. 

“Cheat! You aimed for my face!” I exclaimed. 

Thwack! 

The flat of my blade hit his side. 

“Oooouchhiee, Briddie, that ‘urt!” 

“I’ll show you hurt, pipsqueak!” I laughed, smacking his other side. 

“Ain’t fair! Ain’t fair!” Danruhl squealed, trying to sound pained while smiling all the same. 

The armored dwarf pushed himself off of the stockade railing and came to my brother’s rescue.

He snatched the wooden sword from Danruhl’s hand and fended me off. 

I took a second to look at him and almost keeled over laughing, Danruhl’s blade, once a mighty broad sword, had shrunk to the size of a dagger in the stranger’s hands. 

My brother stuck his tongue out and jeered from the safety behind his legs. 

Thwack, hack, stab, he advanced. 

“You’ll have to do better than that.” I grinned and beat him back. 

I could almost see an eyebrow quirk beneath the visor. 

He tried an experimental sweep to my knees. 

I parried and brought the wooden blades, still crossed, in an arch over his head. 

“Beat ‘er! Beat ‘er!” Danruhl called. 

“Thank you, traitor! By Valor, I thought you were my brother!” I teased through gritted teeth. 

My opponent had pressed back against my advance and was now bearing down on me. I pivoted in ward and slammed my elbow into his chainmail covered gut. 

He let out an ooph, and released the pressure on my blade. 

I went on the offensive, bringing the practice sword to collide with his opposing knee. Danruhl shrieked and shifted sides. 

Swing, block, thrust, parry, it went on until I saw my opening. 

He tensed, muscles in his back leg coiling, preparing to stab. 

I swung my blade up as it came, twisting my crossguard as it connected with his, sending his blade flying out of his hand. I brought my foot down on his and spun around him, grabbing Danruhl by the waist and lifting him off the ground. 

He kicked and squealed like a wild boar, struggling to get out of my one-armed-vice grip. 

I leveled the wooden sword at my opponent and blew the loose strands of hair out of my face. 

He held his arms up in surrender and lifted the helm off of his head. 

My brow furrowed. 

He looked familiar, but I could not place him. 

“To the victor goes the spoils.” He conceded with a bow, his grey eyes smiling. 

“You hear that?” I asked Danruhl, looking down at him. “That means you’ll have to take that bath you’re due for.” 

Danruhl yelped in protest and fought hard to get out of my hold. 

I gave the dwarf a grateful nod and climbed back over the palisade, squirming baby brother and all. 

“You will come back, won’t you?” The dwarf called. “Y’ fight very well!” 

I halted, and considered it for a moment. 

My father would murder me-

I turned and gave him a half smile before tossing Danruhl onto my hip and continuing into the hall


	2. La Gå

“Brid,” A small voice sounded in my ear. 

“Brid!” It whispered again. 

I muttered something unintelligible. 

“Brid! Wake up!” It pleaded.

“What is it?” I asked, my voice slurred from sleep. 

“Brid, they are not home yet.” My brother said, tugging on my sleeve. 

“Danruhl, they will be soon.” I assured him. “Now go back to sleep.” 

“But Brid-”

“Yes Dani?” 

“What if they are not?” 

“If they are not, then they will be in the morning.” 

My father and Thildreir, his wife, had stayed late at the feast, leaving me to take Danruhl to our quarters in hopes of having him sleep. 

Danruhl shuffled his feet a bit and stared down at his bare toes.

“Do you wish to sleep here tonight?” I asked, reading his mind. 

He gave a quick nod and catapulted himself onto the bed, a knee landing in my gut, and an elbow finding purchase in my rib cage. 

I let out a strangled grunt as the air was pushed from my lungs. 

If I was not awake before, I was now. 

“Brid?”

“Yes Dani?” 

“Tell me a story.” 

I shifted upright, and Danruhl curled up by my side, resting his head on my shoulder. 

“Once on a time there was a King who had seven sons, and he loved them so that he could never bear to be without them all at once, but one must always be with him. Now, when they were grown up, six were t’ set off to woo, but as for th’ youngest, his father kept him at home, and the others were to bring back a princess for him to the palace. So the King gave the six the finest clothes you ever set eyes on, so fine that the light gleamed from them a long way off, and each had his horse, which cost many, many pounds of gold, and so they set off. Now, when they had been to many palaces, and seen many princesses, at last they came to a King who had six daughters; such lovely king's daughters they had never seen, and so they fell to wooing them, each one, and when they had got them for sweethearts, they set off home again, but they quite forgot that they were to bring back with them a sweetheart for Boots, their brother, who stayed at home, for they were over head and ears in love with their own sweethearts.”

Danruhl made a face.

“Tell a different story! This one’s no fun!” 

“Patience, let me continue!” 

Danruhl gave a muttered harumph. 

“But when they had gone a good bit on their way, they passed close by a steep hill-side, like a wall, where the giant's house was, and there the giant came out, and set his eyes upon them, and turned them all into stone, princes and princesses and all. Now the King waited and waited for his six sons, but the more he waited the longer they stayed away; so he fell into great trouble, and said he should never know what it was to be glad again.” I continued. 

"And if I had not you left," he said to Boots, "I would live no longer, so full of sorrow am I for the loss of your brothers."

"Well, but now I've been thinking to ask your leave to set out and find them again; that's what I'm thinking of," said Boots.

"Nay, nay!" said his father; "that leave you shall never get, for then you would stay away too."  
But Boots had set his heart upon it; go he would; and he begged and prayed so long that the King was forced to let him go. Now, you must know the King had no other horse to give Boots but an old broken-down jade, for his six other sons and their train had carried off all his horses; but Boots did not care a pin for that, he sprang up on his sorry old steed.” 

“Better.” Danruhl said, nuzzling his nose into my arm. 

"Farewell, father," said he; "I'll come back, never fear, and like enough I shall bring my six brothers back with me;" and with that he rode off. So, when he had ridden a while, he came to a Raven, which lay in the road and flapped its wings, and was not able to get out of the way, it was so starved."Oh, dear friend," said the Raven, "give me a little food, and I'll help you again at your utmost need."

"I haven't much food," said the Prince, "and I don't see how you'll ever be able to help me much; but still I can spare you a little. I see you want it."

So he gave the Raven some of the food he had brought with him.

Now, when he had gone a bit further, he came to a brook, and in the brook lay a great Salmon, which had got upon a dry place, and dashed itself about, but could not get into the water again.

"Oh, dear friend," said the Salmon to the Prince; "shove me out into the water again, and I'll help you again at your utmost need."

"Well!" said the Prince, "the help you'll give me will not be great, I daresay, but it's a pity you should jus’ lie there and choke;" and with that he shot the fish out into the stream again.

After that he went a long, long way, and there met him a Wolf, which was so famished that it lay and crawled along the road on its belly.

"Dear friend, do let me have your horse," said the Wolf; "I'm so hungry the wind whistles through my ribs; I've had nothing to eat these two years."

"No," said Boots, "this will never do; first I came to a raven, and I was forced to give him my food; next I came to a salmon, and him I had to help into the water again; and now you will have my horse. It can't be done, it can't, for then I should have nothing to ride on."

"Nay, dear friend, but you can help me," said the wolf; "you can ride upon my back, and I'll help you again in your utmost need."

"Well! the help I shall get from you will not be great, I'll be bound," said the Prince; "but you may take my horse, since you are in such need." So when the wolf had eaten the horse, Boots took the bit and put it into the wolf's jaw, and laid the saddle on his back; and now the wolf was so strong, after what he had got inside, that he set off with the Prince like nothing. So fast he had never ridden before.

"When we have gone a bit farther," said the Wolf, "I'll show you the Giant's house."

Danruhl yawned. 

“So after awhile they came to it.

“See, here is the Giant's house," said the Wolf; "and see, here are your six brothers, whom the Giant has turned into stone; and here are their six brides, and away yonder is the door, and in at that door you must go."

"Nay, but I daren't go in," said the Prince; "he'll take my life."

"No! no!" said the Wolf; "when you get in you'll find a Princess, and she'll tell you what to do to make an end of the Giant. Only mind and do as she bids you."

Well! Boots went in, but, truth to say, he was very much afraid. When he came in the Giant was away, but in one of the rooms sat the Princess, just as the wolf had said, and so lovely a Princess Boots had never yet set eyes on.

"Oh! heaven help you! whence have you come?" said the Princess, as she saw him; "it will surely be your death. No one can make an end of the Giant who lives here, for he has no heart in his body."

“How can he not have a heart?” Danruhl asked. 

“He is a giant, they aren’t like us.” 

“Oh. What kind of name is Boots?” 

“Stop asking questions.” 

I cleared my throat and continued on. 

The point of all this was to bore Dani to the point where he’d nod off, that couldn’t happen if he kept interrupting. 

"But now that I am here, I may as well try what I can do with him; and I will see if I can't free my brothers, who are standing turned to stone out of doors; and you, too, I will try to save." said Boots.

"Well, if you must, you must," said the Princess; "and so let us see if we can't hit on a plan. Just creep under the bed yonder, and mind and listen to what he and I talk about. But, pray, do lie as still as a mouse."

So he crept under the bed, and he had scarce got well underneath it, before the Giant came.  
"Ha!" roared the Giant, "what a smell of Dwarf blood there is in the house!"

"Yes, I know there is," said the Princess, "for there came a magpie flying with a dwarf's bone, and let it fall down the chimney. I made all the haste I could to get it out, but all one can do, the smell doesn't go off so soon."

Danruhl wrinkled his nose. 

“So the Giant said no more about it, and when night came, they went to bed. After they had lain a while, the Princess said—

"There is one thing I'd be so glad to ask you about, if I only dared."

"What thing is that?" asked the Giant.

"Only where it is you keep your heart, since you don't carry it about you," said the Princess.

"Ah! that's a thing you've no business to ask about; but if you must know, it lies under the door-sill," said the Giant.

"Ho! Ho!" said Boots to himself under the bed, "then we'll soon see if we can't find it."

Next morning the Giant got up cruelly early, and strode off to the wood; but he was hardly out of the house before Boots and the Princess set to work to look under the door-sill for his heart; but the more they dug, and the more they hunted, the more they couldn't find it.”

"He has baulked us this time," said the Princess, "but we'll try him once more."

So she picked all the prettiest flowers she could find, and strewed them over the door-sill, which they had laid in its right place again; and when the time came for the Giant to come home again, Boots crept under the bed. Just as he was well under, back came the Giant.

Snuff-snuff, went the Giant's nose. "My eyes and limbs, what a smell of Dwarves’ blood there is in here," said he.

"I know there is," said the Princess, "for there came a magpie flying with a dwarf's bone in his bill, and let it fall down the chimney. I made as much haste as I could to get it out, but I daresay it's that you smell."

So the Giant held his peace, and said no more about it. A little while after, he asked who it was that had strewed flowers about the door-sill.

"Oh, I, of course," said the Princess.

"And, pray, what's the meaning of all this?" said the Giant.

"Ah!" said the Princess, "I'm so fond of you that I couldn't help strewing them, when I knew that your heart lay under there."

"You don't say so," said the Giant; "but after all it doesn't lie there at all."

“Where is it?” Danruhl asked. 

I shushed him and continued. 

“So when they went to bed again in the evening, the Princess asked the Giant again where his heart was, for she said she would so like to know.

"Well," said the Giant, "if you must know, it lies away yonder in the cupboard against the wall."  
"So, so!" thought Boots and the Princess; "then we'll soon try to find it."

Next morning the Giant was away early, and strode off to the wood, and so soon as he was gone Boots and the Princess were in the cupboard hunting for his heart, but the more they sought for it, the less they found it.

"Well," said the Princess, "we'll just try him once more."

So she decked out the cupboard with flowers and garlands, and when the time came for the Giant to come home, Boots crept under the bed again. Then back came the Giant.” 

Snuff-snuff! "My eyes and limbs, what a smell of Dwarvish blood there is in here!"

"I know there is," said the Princess; "for a little while since there came a magpie flying with a dwarf's bone in his bill, and let it fall down the chimney. I made all the haste I could to get it out of the house again; but after all my pains, I daresay it's that you smell."

When the Giant heard that, he said no more about it; but a little while after, he saw how the cupboard was all decked about with flowers and garlands; so he asked who it was that had done that? Who could it be but the Princess?

"And, pray, what's the meaning of all this tomfoolery?" asked the Giant.

"Oh, I'm so fond of you, I couldn't help doing it when I knew that your heart lay there," said the Princess.

"How can you be so silly as to believe any such thing?" said the Giant.

"Oh yes; how can I help believing it, when you say it?" said the Princess.

"You're a goose," said the Giant; "where my heart is, you will never come."

"Well," said the Princess; "but for all that, 'twould be such a pleasure to know where it really lies."

Then the poor Giant could hold out no longer, but was forced to say—

"Far, far away in a lake lies an island; on that island stands a tower; in that tower is a well; in that well swims a duck; in that duck there is an egg, and in that egg there lies my heart,—you darling!"

In the morning early, while it was still gray dawn, the Giant strode off to the wood.

“Now I must set off too," said Boots; "if I only knew how to find the way." He took a long, long farewell of the Princess, and when he got out of the Giant's door, there stood the Wolf waiting for him.

So Boots told him all that had happened inside the house, and said now he wished to ride to the well in the church, if he only knew the way. So the Wolf bade him jump on his back, he'd soon find the way; and away they went, till the wind whistled after them, over hedge and field, over hill and dale. 

After they had travelled many, many days, they came at last to the lake. Then the Prince did not know how to get over it, but the Wolf bade him only not be afraid, but stick on, and so he jumped into the lake with the Prince on his back, and swam over to the island. So they came to the tower; but the tower keys hung high, high up on the top of the tower, and at first the +Prince did not know how to get them down.

"You must call on the raven," said the Wolf.

So the Prince called on the raven, and in a trice the raven came, and flew up and fetched the keys, and so the Prince got into the tower. But when he came to the well, there lay the duck, and swam about backwards and forwards, just as the Giant had said. So the Prince stood and coaxed it and coaxed it, till it came to him, and he grasped it in his hand; but just as he lifted it up from the water the duck dropped the egg into the well, and then Boots was beside himself to know how to get it out again.

"Well, now you must call on the salmon to be sure," said the Wolf; and the king's son called on the salmon, and the salmon came and fetched up the egg from the bottom of the well.  
Then the Wolf told him to squeeze the egg, and as soon as ever he squeezed it the Giant screamed out.

"Squeeze it again," said the Wolf; and when the Prince did so, the Giant screamed still more piteously, and begged and prayed so prettily to be spared, saying he would do all that the Prince wished if he would only not squeeze his heart in two.

"Tell him, if he will restore to life again your six brothers and their brides, whom he has turned to stone, you will spare his life," said the Wolf. Yes, the Giant was ready to do that, and he turned the six brothers into king's sons again, and their brides into king's daughters.

"Now, squeeze the egg in two," said the Wolf. So Boots squeezed the egg to pieces, and the Giant burst at once.

Now, when he had made an end of the Giant, Boots rode back again on the Wolf to the Giant's house, and there stood all his six brothers alive and merry, with their brides. Then Boots went into the hill-side after his bride, and so they all set off home again to their father's house. And you may fancy how glad the old king was when he saw all his seven sons come back, each with his bride;—"But the loveliest bride of all is the bride of Boots, after all," said the king, "and he shall sit uppermost at the table, with her by his side."

Danruhl was softly snoring at my side. 

“And they held the greatest wedding feast the kingdom had ever seen, so great in fact, that it is still going to this day.” I finished with a sigh. 

Finally.

My brother’s red hair had fallen into his face, and rose and fell with each breath. 

To think he will be king someday. 

This small, albeit stout, child in my arms would have the weight of a mountain on his shoulders. 

I rose, lifting Danruhl with me. 

He always did sleep like a rock. 

It was getting him to that point that was the problem. 

I leaned one hip against the window sill, Danruhl still contentedly dozing on the other. 

The planes and cities of men, stretched out before my view, lit by patches of moonlight. 

I had never seen anything like it. The Iron Hills were so far to the East and so barren, that the cities of men had never graced their roots. The fields here were fertile, and allowed for the men of the West to work their endless toil. 

They lived hard lives, unaided by longevity or magic, that many dwarves scoffed at. 

“To labor in the dirt, an’ n’ere reach the wealth beneath? That is the work of fools.” It was a sentiment that rang through every dwarf hall that had dealt with mortal men. 

Danruhl snorted in his sleep. 

My brother. 

Half. 

A dark place in my mind reminded me. 

“He is more than that.” I said quietly aloud. 

Since the day he was born, the moment he came red and wailing into this world, he had been more to me than half. 

More than whole. 

His mother had tutted over him, coddled him, cooed until her voice had gone raw, in the first months. 

She had her heir, her fortunes were made. 

And then she began to grow distant, to detach herself from his existence, and leave him to my care. 

“Ten and six years. That is enough to know how to care for a dwarfling, is it not?” She had asked the first night. Her eyes had been frantic, and beseeching. 

So I had taken the flailing bundle from her arms and walked the castle halls until Danruhl’s face had ceased to be the same color as his hair. 

That, at least, was how it started. 

The chamber door opened behind me, light flooding in from the corridor. 

“Put him to bed and then we must speak.” My father said, voice low and face unreadable. 

I nodded and took one last glance out of the window, bracing myself for what was coming. 

The wind blew in from the North and made the air crack with the sound of banners snapping in contortion. 

I turned away and put Dani on my bed, pulling the fur blanket up to his chin and brushing a few strands of red hair out of his eyes.

I took a steadying inhale and pushed the wooden door open that led to my father’s chambers. 

He stood by the stone fireplace, an elbow leaning against the mantle. 

Dåin, King Under the Iron Hills, was gone. In his place stood a wearied man.

“I’ve spoken with my cousin Thorin, and he seems to be under the impression that a dwarrowling trounced his nephew in th’ yard today.” 

I stayed silent. 

“Well? What say you, Bridlyng? Did you?” Da’s tone was even. 

“I-I’m sorry, I didn’ mean i-”

“Brid, we’ve been havin’ this conversation since yeh’ were sixteen.” He said, running his calloused hands over his face.

I let out a heavy exhale and gave a single nod. 

I was thirty four, I was supposed to be apprenticed soon, I was not supposed to be wasting my time. 

“I don’ want you wielding a sword, or an axe, or anythin’ for that matter.” 

“Yes Da.” I said sullenly, biting my lip. 

“Yer mother-”

My eyes flew open wide. 

Da never talked about my mother. He always said it brought with it “too many old wounds not quite healed up”. 

“Yer mother was the dearest thing t’ me in my whole life, and when she died, it became you.” He told me, kneeling down to my height, and placing a hand on each of my small shoulders. “You are more precious t’ me then all of the gold in the world. I don’ want you becoming a warrior, not because I don’ think you could do it, you could. You’d make a hell of a fighter. But I don’ want you to become a soldier because I don’t want t’ lose you.” His hands moved to hold my face as he knocked his forehead against mine. “Though I fear tha’ if I keep you from it, I’ll lose you just the same.” 

“I don’t want you t’ resent me for keeping you from something you clearly want more than anything.” 

I chewed my lip and fought to keep my face blank. 

“My cousins Balin and Dwalin have offered to take you as a ward. Balin has th’ sharpest mind I know, and Dwalin will make you skilled enough t’ beat even me. If you want it, if y’ truly want it, Brid, I will give my mark.” 

I let the air out that had been refused exit for too long. 

“You would?” I asked quickly. 

“You are nearly forty now, Bridlyng. I must accept the passing of time at some point.” My father said with a small laugh, as he wrapped his arms around my shoulders, burying my face in his fur collar. 

“If you do this, it will not be easy. It will be like nothing you have ever experienced before. You must leave him behind.” Da said softly. 

I nodded into his chest, choking on the knot in my throat. 

“And you must leave me.” 

I nodded once more, saltwater falling unbidden onto his robes. 

“Tut, tut, what are these? Do not shed tears for a fond old man.” 

“I would stop them if I could.” I laughed ruefully, swiping at my eyes. 

My father kissed the top of my head. 

“Sometimes it is best to let them go.”


	3. Sos Cogaidh

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Hello Lovelies! 
> 
> Dialogue in bold italics is in Khuzdul, which is a strange mash-up of Norse and Gaelic because they contained the right phonetics. 
> 
> Danké!

A a few days later, I stood outside a wood frame house, re-reading the slip of parchment I was given to insure I had, in fact, come to the right address.

I knocked warily and stepped back from the stoop.

My heart was threatening to pound out of my chest as I glanced up and down the street.

_There weren’t that many people, if I just slunk off, told Father I’d changed my mind-_

The door opened with a bang that made me jump.

I might’ve squeaked a wee bit too.

“An’ who are you?”

The dwarf took up nearly the whole doorway.

I cleared my throat.

_Pull it together girlie._

“I am Bridlyng Daindottir. I am inquiring after Master Balin, son of Fundin.” I said, chin up, eyes set straight at his, making my voice sound like my father’s when he spoke from his throne.

It was a bit of a feat considering he had me by two feet and two dozen stone, had tattoos covering the entirety of his arms and scalp and was wearing the largest fur I had ever seen.

The dwarf offered his hand and a wide grin.

“Dwalin, son of Fundin, at yer’ service, lassie.”

“And yours. Is that bear?” I asked, shaking his hand.

“Tis indeed. Fine pair of eyes yeh’ have.” Dwalin turned in towards the house. “BROTHER! Yer’ new pupil is here!”

“Well don’t just leave him there at the door!” A voiced called from inside.

“It’s the girl, brother!”

There was a loud crash.

“Come in! Come in!” An older dwarf insisted with an encouraging smile, peering from beside his brother’s bulk. His hair was greying, his beard long enough to tuck into his belt.

“You didn’t scare her too much, brother?” he asked Dwalin, as I was ushered into the fourier.

“Scare her? Not at all, she’s got the heart of a lion.” Dwalin said, giving me a wink.

The hallway opened into a sitting room with a large fireplace and a warm, humble kitchen.

“You must be Bridlyng.” The old dwarf said, offering his hand and bending down to my height. “I am Balin, son of Fundin, your new swordmaster.”

I took his hand. “It’s just Brid, thank ye.”

“Your room is at the top of the stairs, on yer left. Your father has had your things already sent over, but you’ll have to unpack. So, run along, and dinner’ll be ready when ye’ get down.”

I nodded, said my thanks, and made my way up the heavy wooden staircase.

It was carved like nothing I had seen before. Horses, and warriors and kings twisted around the balusters and handrail. It was beautiful. I traced my fingers over the figure of a king astride a horse, whose face looked familiar.

His brow was creased with effort, his arms raised, gripping the handle of a great hammer, as the drake Nithhogg, with fangs bared, was trampled beneath his mount’s hooves.

It was as if- It was Durin Allfather.

How they remembered such things, how he looked, what he wielded, was beyond me, as he had died in the First Age.

I continued my way up, feeling more confused by this house than I had been by Ygdir, my senile tutor who used to ramble on about the Battle of Greenfields as if he had been there.

The codgy old bastard forgot he had told me it was fought by halflings.

_Halflings, fighting wars, ridiculous._

I was only four and thirty, but I knew better than that.

My room was on the left, its heavy carved door already open. A fine layer of dust floated in the light cast from its window, that looked down upon the woods outside the settlement’s high stone battlement. Green drapes, a red quilt, and a small bed with a dark engraved headboard made up its contents.

My cedar trunk sat at the foot of the bed.

I let my shoulders slump and sighed.

_What was I doing?_

I knew no one, had a single trunk to call my own and no idea how to even become a warrior.

The bed springs squeaked as I flopped, face-first, onto it. It made my nose hurt, so I rolled onto my back and stared at the ceiling.

I had nothing here. Nothing.

My father, my brother, my family would leave at dawn tomorrow and then I’d be-

_**Alone.** _

Dani’d be hundreds, and hundreds of miles away. It’d take three moons just for them to get home, and after that, Aule knows how long I’d stay here.

Da spoke of ten years like it was nothing, but it was everything.

By the time I would go back, Dani’d be too big to hoist to my hip, or to swing his feet off the ground, and too old to be amused by wooden swords and tales of giants.

I felt my eyes start to leak and sniffed, rubbing the back of my sleeve at my eyes furiously.

_Mahal, twice in two days, are you a dwarf or are you an elf?!_

There was a small creak as the door was pushed open.

“Um, I couldn’ help but- Are you alright?” A timid voice asked.

I practically vaulted off the bed, and swiped at my eyes again.

“I’m-I’m fine.”

A small, black-haired boy, a year or two younger than me, bowed his head in apologies, but then screwed up his face as if he was thinking.

“Are you sure?”

“Yes, I’m sure. Do you want yer’ head cracked?” I growled, furious at the futility of my attempts at cleaning my face.

“You don’t look alright. Do you want to hear something funny? My brother always tells me something funny when I’m not alright.” He remarked.

I considered it for a few seconds. “Sure.” I sniffed, sitting back down.

_Its not like this could get any worse._

He sat down next to me and scratched the back of his head.

“It goes like this, one day a miner, a smith and a tinker go into a tavern, and they ask the barmaid to give them a round-” He spoke a lot with his hands, they always seemed to be moving.

“Does it end with something about the smith’s wife?” I asked, wiping my nose with my sleeve.

“How’d you know? My brother said he’d just made that one up on his own-”

I shrugged.

“Have you heard the one about the tailor an’-”

“Heard that one too.” I said with a small apologetic smile.

“Oh. Well, do you have any?” He asked.

I thought for a moment and then nodded, with a grin.

I had always been good at telling stories.

“There was once a dwarf named Hacon, who came from the line of Durin, whose beard was so sparse he was called Grizzlebeard-”

The boy made a little wounded noise at the back of his throat.

“What’s wrong?” It was my turn to ask.

He rubbed his chin with both his hands, like it was a nervous habit.

“I jus’- I haven’t got a beard yet.”

“But you must only be twenty eig-”

“I am thirty four!” He cried, exasperated.

“Oh. I am thirty four too, and I don’t have a beard.” I said consolingly.

“But you’re a girl!”

“It’s no matter. You’ll grow a beard in time, and if not,” I shrugged and offered him my pinkie. “y’ll still be my friend.”

He linked his with mine and grinned. “The name is Kili.”

“I’m Brid.”

I had dinner at Master Balin’s house, much to my father’s relief.

Kili, happily, could eat as much as I could.

We had just sat down when the front door opened and a voice called from the hall.

“Balin! My old friend, is that roast I smell?” A woman, with dark hair, and shining green eyes, and a beautifully braided beard, entered, her hand on the shoulder of the boy Fili.

The she stopped short when she entered the dining room.

“This is Dain’s girl then?” The lady asked Master Balin.

_______________________________________

Dis’s POV

I had not expected Balin’s visitor, and her face came as a shock.

There she was, plain as day.

Flashing blue eyes and high, broad cheekbones covered in freckles, a short up-turned nose.

Aislyng.

There were traits from Dain as well; thick brows, a wide smiling mouth, stouter hands than her mother’s fine boned fingers.

_It was perhaps a good thing then, that my brother was entertaining her father._

I had to wonder what Dain was thinking, sending her to be raised here.

Then again, Aislyng had always called Erebor her home, even when she was married and residing in the Iron Hills.

Dain had spoken to my brother of wanting his child to be raised as close to her mother as she could be, and placing her among her mother’s people seemed to be his only option.

I breathed a sigh.

Thorin had agreed to allow the girl to apprentice under Balin and Dwalin, but he had not met her yet, and his reaction would be unpredictable.

At least my youngest son and the child seemed to be getting along well enough already, they were both laughing their heads off at something Kili murmured behind his hand as she giggled with her nose scrunched because of her smile.

Just like her mother.

___________________________________________

Balin’s POV

I watched Dis’s face with hesitation.

It would be unnerving for her to see the face her brother loved so.

_And how Frerin loved that face_

Bridlyng’s face lit up with laughter at something Kili had said, and I watched Dis’s lips curl the slightest bit, as if she too was relieved that her friend had not passed from this world entirely.

My eyes shifted to the heir of Durin’s line, to see his face split into a smile.

Dain’s judgement had been wise.

His girl would do just fine here.

Just fine.

___________________________________________

Brid’s POV

Fili, the boy from the arena, came and sat on my other side.

His beard was beginning to fill in fully, and I knew now why Kili had gotten so upset.

In comparison, he was, well, rather baby-faced.

In fact, _my_ sideburns were quite impressive compared to his.

_And everyone knew blonde dwarrow-babes did not grow fine beards._

Master Balin had answered the lady. “Ah, Dis, this is indeed Bridlyng Daindottir, our newest ward.”

I decided that Master Balin had a good smile, and he seemed to use it often too.

“Bridlyng, that’s a lovely name.” Dis smiled warmly.

I blushed and nodded my thanks like I had been taught.

“How is your father?” She asked.

“He is well, though my brother has giv’n him more gray hair.” I snorted.

“Oh, she sounds like Dain, alright.” The lady laughed, the sound gruff and low.

Master Dwalin joined her. “She’s as bold as ‘im too, marched straight up t’ the door an’ didn’t flinch.”

“That’s a feat for anyone who sees you, my friend, not only dwarflings.”

“Ach, sure, since yer’ such a handsome figure yerself.”

Fili tapped me on the shoulder. “Don’ worry, they always do this.” He said, handing me a large plate of roast. “You fought really well today. Where’d you learn to?”

“My cousin, Fundren, he’s as tall as Master Dwalin.” I said, with a certain note of pride.

My cousin was the biggest dwarf I had ever seen.

“Not possible.” Fili said with a frown. “Dwalin’s the tallest dwarf, ever.”

“No, Fundren’s the tallest.” I insisted. He was almost five feet and six inches, by the reckoning of men.

“Tha’s a lie, take it back!”

“You take it back!”

“M’ a prince, take it back!” he yelled, poking a finger into my shoulder.

“So what? ’M right, you take it back!” I shouted, glaring at him, and shoving him right back.

He shoved me with an open hand, and I socked him in the nose.

The adults had all gotten to their feet, and were trying to pull us apart as we clawed at each other.

Balin yanked me up by the scruff of my neck, while Dwalin did the same to Fili.

Both of us were still struggling to get at the other, snarling and spitting like wild things. Master Balin simply looked amused as Dwalin held him up and told him to apologize.

“Why? She broke my nose!”

“Did not!”

“ _ **Løgner!**_ ” Fili snarled.

“ ** _Leathcheann!_** ” I spat.

“ENOUGH!” Dis bellowed.

I froze, wide-eyed.

I’d never heard a lady yell so loud, or at all for that matter.

_Well, my aunt Brün did, but Da’ said she didn’t count as a lady some of the time._

“Fili, apologize, Bridlyng, apologize, then clean yourselves up and when you’re prepared to act like civilized dwarflings you may come back t’ the table.” She said firmly.

“M’ sorry.” Fili said quickly.

“Sorry.” I mumbled.

Dis rolled her eyes and sighed, waving her hand to signal for us to be let down. Fili darted for the washroom quick as his feet hit the floor and I scampered after. As soon as the door closed, we turned and glared at each other for a long while.

“ _ **Maloid**_.”

“ _ **Toin**_.”

His eyes got big and he started to smile. “That was a bad word! Where’d you learn it?”

“My cousin.” I said, narrowing my eyes at him in suspicion, worried he might get angry again.

Fili crossed his arms and hmphed. “Figures.”

We stood in silence for a while.

“Would you let me look at your nose?” I asked.

“Why?”

“I want to make sure it’s not broken!”

“Would it make yeh’ feel guilty because I’m a prince?”

“Oh shut up.” I said, grabbing his chin and yanking his face level to mine.

It was bruised, and bleeding slightly, but not broken.

“Yer fine.”

He did the same thing to me, turning my face from side to side.

“You’re fine.” We both turned for the sink at the same time, and knocked our heads against the other’s.

Fili started to laugh, and I started to laugh too. I grabbed a rag and soaked it in the bucket of water, squeezed it out and grabbed his chin again.

“What-”

“Stay still, I’m trying to fix your nose.” I said, batting his hand away.

There wasn’t much blood, just quite a bit of bruising, and he hissed when the rag brushed the bridge of his nose.

“Y’ alright?” I asked, pausing for a moment.

Fili just nodded.

He was handsome, in a way, I suppose, if one liked long noses.

_And grey eyes._

Which I most certainly did not.

I cleared my throat and kept on, making sure to be gentle were the purpling was the worst. I made to toss the rag away, but he caught it and rinsed it out.

“Your turn.” He explained, holding my chin and wiping off blood I hadn’t even noticed was there from a scratch above my eyebrow.

I rolled my eyes and sighed. “Get on wi’ it, then.”

He finished and tweaked my nose.

“Yeh’ve got a mean right hook.” Fili chuckled.

I smirked and stretched out a hand. “ _ **Sos cogaidh?**_ ” I asked.

" ** _Sos cogaidh._** ” Fili smiled, taking my hand.

“Good, I’m still hungry.” I said with a nod.


	4. Glede

The next morning came creeping through a set of unfamiliar drapes of green. 

Today was it. 

My father and his court would be leaving by the second hour.

And then I’d be alone. 

I shook my head to clear my thoughts, and let my feet slide onto the cold wood floor as I let out a discontented hiss. 

At least the bed was warm, if that was any consolation. 

Belegost seemed to be awakening with me, as soon enough I began to hear the trundle of cart wheels and the chatter of dwarves going to work and greeting their neighbors. 

There was a mirror in the far corner, with a basin of water and a clean cloth, along with one of my dresses that I had laid out the previous night. 

It was a burgundy red, with charcoal-colored stitching, a far cry from what I wanted to wear. 

If it was only my father I’d be seeing I’d wear trousers and gossips be damned. 

I scrubbed my face and started on my hair. 

It had always been an excruciating ordeal to brush, as it was thick-practically rope,and twisted out in every direction known to man. 

I worked with nimble fingers, braiding back the sections just above my ears to join together and keep the rest of the mane somewhat managed, and started on my sideburns, the only facial hair I had besides the wisps of blond hair that had started along my jaw. 

They were alright, I guess, as thick as the rest of my hair, but it wasn’t a beard like the dwarrows back home had. 

“The poor dear, her mother was just the same way.” 

“Give her a few more years, tha’s all.” 

“Ha, would y’ look at th’ Runtlyng, its like she’s barely twenty.” 

I snapped their clasps closed, the ones that bore the mark of the Iron Hills.

Two axes with broken hafts, and the rune of my foresire Dain I. 

Two iron studs, etched with my rune, were added behind my left ear, a silver coil was twisted into the braid, a larger fastener bearing the Khuzdul mark that set us apart as the heirs of Durin the Deathless was closed at the end of it. 

I placed the three rows of studs, diamond, gold and silver into the snug of each ear, each one for a decade that I had lived, and then the boar’s head cuff that wrapped around the shell of my right ear, followed by its plain iron counterpart on my left. 

I fidgeted with everything, trying to keep my mind off of what was coming in a few hours. 

The dress slid over my head with a faint rustling, the only sound other than my breathing. 

The other members of the house must not wake early. 

There was an overbodice to the damn thing, that I laced loosely, knowing Thildrier would tighten it no matter how tight I put it myself. 

The skirt that hung off of it was split in the front, and reached down to my knees.

I glanced in the mirror and figured I looked alright. 

I didn’t particularly know why I even cared, but I did. 

The floor creaked from down the hall, and I figured the rest of the house was finally up. 

So I did what was natural.

Hauled back into my bed and sulked for an hour. 

There were heavy footsteps on the stairs, and laughter from the kitchen, along with the smell of frying salt pork. 

It’s not a bad place. 

It just wasn’t home. 

It’d have to be soon, but it wasn’t yet. 

A voice drifted up the stairs. 

Well step we gaily, on we go  
Heel to heel and toe for toe   
Arm in arm, row on row  
All for Maera’s wedding 

It was a morning song. 

We had a song for everything. Waking, sleeping, greeting, leaving, eating, drinking, a majority of them were about drinking, working, mining, smithing, traveling, even baking had its set of songs for Mahal’s sake.

A different voice responded to the first, a lot lower, and definitely worse in quality, and I realized that it was the brother’s singing to each other as they made breakfast. 

Over hillways up and down  
Myrtle green and bracken brown  
Past the shielings in the town   
All for sake of Maera

I decided to braid the rest of my hair and tie it off with a length of leather.

If I was to begin to become an adult, I might as well look like one. 

I slid out of bed and into my boots, lacing them properly and setting their knots nice and square before heading down the stairs. 

“Good mornin, Brid! Would ye’ like eggs with breakfast?” Balin asked when he spied me at the foot of the stairs. 

“Do you have any salt pork?” I asked. 

“Knew it’d bring her down, brother.” Dwalin grinned, turning from the stove to flip three rashers of fried salt pork onto a plate that was already full of food. 

Griddle cakes, sausage, biscuits, toast of three kinds all slathered with butter and jam, and now three rashers of salt pork. 

My guts are really going to hate Thildrier once she gets her hands on me. 

“Go on and eat, the rest of em’ will be here shortly.” Balin said, smiling kindly. 

I smiled back and set to my plate, as Dwalin fixed his own and sat down on the bench next to me. 

We must’ve looked quite the odd pair.

“So, Brid, have yeh’ done any riding?” He asked, sinking his teeth into a biscuit, the crumbs falling into his beard. 

“Aye, I got here didn’ I?” I said, brow furrowing. 

The Iron Hills bred some of the stoutest breeds of nags known to dwarves, and most of us took a great deal of pride in that. 

My father did, and I supposed I did too. 

Dwalin let out a great bark of a laugh, shoving my shoulder in what was a jovial manner, though in reality it threatened to send me sprawling on the floor. 

“She’s got a good sense a’ humor, brother, told you she wasn’t jus’ a hellcat.” 

Balin rolled his eyes and looked at his brother sharply. 

“Yes, yes, you are always right, brother, please continue t’ correct me on issues tha’ haven’t even arisen.” He muttered under his breath, sitting down with his own platter of food. My face had flushed at the hellcat comment, as I realized I hadn’t precisely acted like royalty was supposed to act last night. 

“I am not a hellcat!” I insisted, flustered beyond reason. 

“No need to get upset, little lassie, I rather like hellcats.” Dwalin laughed, pinching my nose between his fore and index fingers in an affectionate gesture. I glared at him for a few moments before laughing myself. Balin simply looked between the two of us like we were both moon-sick. I liked the younger brother more and more the more I got to know him. 

“What’s the matter?” Dwalin asked his brother. 

“The two of yeh’,” Balin shook his head, “will be a menace to the public.” 

“Tha’s nonsense. We’ll jus’ have a great deal of fun at everyone else’s expense.” Dwalin reasoned. I grinned enthusiastically, entirely on board with this idea. 

“Don’ encourage him.” Balin told me sternly, gesturing with his fork from across the table. There was a knock at the door. 

“I’ve got it.” Dwalin said, rising from the bench. 

“Ah, Dwalin, good to see you cuz’.” My father said outside the door. There were the sounds of two, very stout, and very thick heads colliding before Da stepped into the kitchen. He put his hands on my shoulders, but not before snatching a piece of toast. 

“How goes my girl?” Da asked with a toast-filled smile. 

I furrowed my brows and frowned severely. “Better, if I had my toast back.” 

“You have six pieces more! Yeh’ll be fine.” My father said, taking Dwalin’s seat, and kissing my temple. 

“Tha’s what you think.” I said, mourning the loss of the orange marmalade that slathered it rather than the actual toast. “Where’s Dani?” 

“He’s with his mother, getting his things ready. He’ll be here, chailín, don’ worry.” 

I nodded and tucked into my breakfast again, as Da and his cousins turned to talk of politics and the state of dwarvendom and then something about some affliction, which to my knowledge was just a word to say illness. 

“Ach, its alright, Dain, nothin’ to worry yourself about.” Dwalin told Da gruffly, waving a shovel of a hand dismissively. 

“If y’ say so cuz’, Thorin worries about you, though.” 

 

“M’ fine.” Dwalin insisted. 

Balin gave the back of his brother’s head a sharp look, but simply sighed and glanced at my father significantly. 

Da tried to steal a rasher of salt pork, but I slapped his hand away, deftly shoveling another fork full of honey soaked griddlecake into my mouth at the same time. 

He locked an arm around my head and pulled me into his chest, stealing my now clean fork from my hand and cutting himself a corner of cake as well. 

“Da! Let me go!” I said, trying to wriggle out of the vice grip of his arm. 

My father was a stout dwarf by all definitions. 

He had prematurely greying red hair, that he tied back in one huge, long braid, plated with gold and barred with iron. His beard was braided stiffly, with ornaments of boar’s tusk through out. He kept his mustache short, and wore torques on both arms, thick braided bands of gold that were marked with images from the tales of his father and his father’s father. 

Dani had tried them on once, and they only loosely fit around both of his legs. 

His bracers were of black leather, tooled with runes, and he always wore shirts of blood red trimmed with grays and blacks. My father was a warrior first, and he made it known. 

I had freed myself and gave my father a shove, before trying to smooth my hair. 

“Here, glede, let me fix yer’ hair.” Da said, turning my shoulders so he could work on my mused braid. 

I was always his glede, my brother was his brôd.Funny, because that word is what gives my name meaning. Brôd, pride. Lyng, place. She holds a place of pride.

“Tá sé seo le flette maith, tá do lámha a bheith oilte.” My father said quietly. 

“Bhuíochas a thabhairt duit athair.” I replied, twisting my fingers together. 

“Nei, nei, mo chailín, nach raibh maith agat dom, tú a dhéanamh de féin, mar a bhfuil déanta agat i bhfad. Tá sé amanna go fuath liom a chaitheamh choróin an sliabh chéad, nuair ba chóir liom a chaitheamh go a athair.” Da sighed. 

I lowered my chin to glance at the threads of my dress. My father was a warrior first, and then a king. 

And then a father. 

It was a realization I had made when the other children spoke of days their fathers would spend with them, when they did not have much work in the mines, or when there were no wars to wage. My father had not spent any such days with me. 

He spared the hours when he could, and insisted on taking dinner with my brother and I, but sometimes I hated the crown he wore on his head. There was a sharp knock at the door before Thildrier and Dani entered, both in state dress, Dani had already fidgeted with his hems by the state of him, and came into the kitchen. 

My brother bounded into me without a second thought, chattering happily about the toys he had been gifted with and how many dragons he intended to slay with the sword the “warrior from the arena” had given him. I bit my tongue to stop from saying that the warrior was actually just a boy, and not a very polite one at that. He blinked several times upon realizing he was not the only one in the room, and his mouth snapped shut at the sight of Dwalin and Balin, leaning against the wall. 

“They aren’ gonna eat you, Dani.” Da told him with a smile. Dani’s hands grasped on to my sleeves, tight. He tugged several times impatiently. 

“He’s so big- bigger than Fundren.” He whispered none too quietly. 

“No he’s not, Dani. They’re the same height.” I told him. 

Thildrier stood in the kitchen doorway, uninterested for a few moments before sweeping Danruhl up into her arms. She fussed with his hair, and the tiny braids in his beard, looking him over and over. Dwarven royalty was expected to look precisely that way. Royal. Our robes were embroidered with gold and gems. All clothing followed in this pattern: heavy, rich, and intricate. It was well known that the tailors and weavers to kings made good money. 

Dwarves were proud of their royal lines. Each child given to the throne was seen as a gift, a grand gift from Aule that reflected his love for his people. 

I was to be presented to the whole of Belegost as the daughter of Dain, son of Nain, son of Gror, son of Dain the first, son of Nain, son of Oin, son of Gloin, son of Thorin the first, son of Thrain the first, son of Nain the first, son of Durin the sixth, son of the son of the son of the son of the son of Durin Deathless. A lengthy title that never fit neatly on paper. 

“Is it nearly time?” Balin asked, clearing his throat and stepping closer to the table. 

My father nodded. 

“Thorin is already at the hall, awaiting Dis and her sons. Everything else is set, if my girl is ready and settled in.” Da looked at me expectantly. 

“Aye, she’ll be alright.” Dwalin smiled.


End file.
